True Victory
by temporary placeholder
Summary: Post OotP. What does it mean to fight? Can Harry learn the true meaning of victory, and in the process, learn take a new perspective on war? True peace is hard to attain, but they can sure as hell try.


So this is my third story, for all the readers of my other stories, chapter 3 of Against All Odds is being written, and I am planning a major revamp of The Power He Knows Not. I wasn't satisfied with my writing from that long ago, and there are some plot issues I want to fix.

Basically, the stories I've written so far have been a write-as-I-go kind of thing, with no planning and just writing down whatever came to mind. But I've realized that that kind of stuff doesn't work, so this new story has been planned well out to the end, and I will be doing the same for my other stories. Sorry for the wait. Anyway, I present:

**PROLOGUE**

Even for a white winter's evening, the air was unusually still and eerily silent. A last snowflake, undaunted by the muted night, descended onto the outermost pine of an evergreen tree, tipping precariously on the tip of the lush green protrusion. A moment later, pure white and adorned with symmetrical expanding star-like designs, it bounced off the pine with a spring, deftly soaring into the air for a second before floating again down to earth.

Without a sound, it joined the many millions of its companions on the ground, already stacked high from a continuous week of frozen precipitation.

But the lone snowflake never had a chance to freeze itself to the already intricate weave of snowflakes on the ground. A blinding flash of green light, followed by a rush of hot air, melted the top layer of white into nothing more than a sleek mirror. The windows of the medium sized muggle house, which the yard housing the pine tree belonged to, blew out in a fantastic array of glass and thunderous shatters. Powder snow and dust shook off from the exterior walls as the infrastructure trembled. The ivory white bricks that had discolored so with the ravages of time, cracked and snapped as the house, decorated with a brilliant wreath on the front door, threatened to collapse where it stood.

For a few moments, it seemed as though the chaos had subsided, but with a muffled yell from inside, the front wall of the house exploded out, sending dust and rubble through the air. Five figures stumbled out of the wreckage, their normally black robes and cloaks gray with dust. One of them was dragging along an immobile body, unknown to life. Dazed and barely standing, the group withdrew from the vicinity of the house, ready to topple at any moment.

One of the figures shook powder from their shoulder length hair, and stood up straighter, apparently having regained their sense of mind. Now visible, the figure, revealed to be a middle-aged woman, tiredly glared at the four men standing before her.

"Hurry, before the authorities arrive. I see you got his body Ozarka, good," she hissed, her unnaturally golden, hawk-like eyes narrowing at the sight.

"W-Who made you the leader," a name was uttered here, but the untimely creaking and groaning of the house's structure drowned out the sound. "I seem to remember that it was _I_ that enlisted _your_ services!" said another of the figures, walking up boldly and challenging her.

She scowled. "Fine! But now isn't the time to be playing immature games, we can talk later about your leadership issues, let's leave. _Now_."

Grudgingly the man gave a curt nod, and withdrew an old rag from his inner pocket. The rest of the mysterious assembly grabbed a hold of the rag, making sure at least one finger was touching it.

"Alright, three, two..." began the man, but he was interrupted by another figure, a tall man, speaking for the first time.

"Wait," he suddenly spat, releasing his hold of the rag. Raising the eleven and a half inch piece of wood that he had never stopped gripping since the explosion, he shot out a single word, "_Reducto_," and let loose a bright blue beam of light at the already unstable house, hitting one of the few remaining support beams.

With a smirk, he pocketed his wand, and regained his hold upon the portkey, adding, "Just in case."

The house moaned and seemed to draw a last dying breath, as the ivory bricks collapsed in on themselves with a low but steady rumble. The figures disappeared amidst the demolition in a flash of blue light without a second glance.

&-&-&-&-&-&-&-&

Sometimes the world has an amazing sense of timing. Other times it can be described as dreadful, whichever fits the situation. Is this controlled by a higher power? Fate or Destiny? God? These are questions that the human race has been asking for as long as we have existed. But one thing that is certain is, things _always_ get interesting.

And so it was not more than ten minutes later that a rather nice looking sedan turned into the untouched driveway, its midnight blue paint glowing softly from the ambient light. The car faltered in its approach for a moment upon seeing the rubble. Suddenly it screeched forward, forgoing the paved driveway, and skidded into the snowy yard, propelling snow into the air on all sides. Within seconds it reached the pile of debris that was once a house. Skidding again, the car turned to the side and drifted the last few meters to the ruins.

Even before the vehicle had reached a complete stop, the driver side door burst open and a young woman flew out of the car, a brown paper bag spilling out of the car behind her. Some vegetables, a carton of eggnog, and a miniature Santa Claus decoration rolled out, forgotten in the snow.

The girl was frantic, her soft brown hair covering her face as she collapsed to her knees in front of the wreckage. Her quick breaths were clearly visible in the winter night, and dust enveloped her jeans and forest green sweater as she frantically started digging away, her fingers and forearms coating with a mixture of blood, sweat, and dust as the tip of her fingers split open.

She stood up suddenly, emitting a large sound of frustration, halfway between a grunt and a yell. Her right hand slipped inside her sweater, and she drew a long, thin stick. She outstretched her arm in front of her, holding the stick with a delicate but precise grip. Her whole posture seemed to change, an invisible aura of confidence and determination exuded from her now; the hysterical girl that she had just been seemed like a faraway memory now.

Drawing a deep breath, she gave the wand a deft flick upward, before swinging it in a wide arc horizontally, yelling, "_Abderus!_"

Every single piece of brick and rubble lifted up into the air, spreading out so that each part was clearly visible. If for not the dire circumstances, it would have truly been a sight to behold, as the whole exhibit stretched out well over twenty meters high. With a few slow waves of her wand, the spectacle formed into a gigantic cylinder, and slowly rotated around, revealing all its contents to the girl. Panting as she struggled to keep a hold of the immense magic, she finally spotted two bodies within the sea of debris. Almost losing her concentration in her surprise, she gently brought the immobile bodies forward with a few muttered words.

As soon as she had secured the bodies, the remaining rubble abruptly stopped and fell toward the earth, as if the string suspending them had been severed. Deafening roars blasted her ears as the ruins fell around her, but strangely not a single one came near the three figures. She was oblivious to all this though. Shivering from the cold and anxiety, she examined the bodies.

One was a man, slightly plump, dressed in gray slacks and a simple collared shirt. His dust caked face was serene, even in death, as she instinctively knew. A few blotches of dark red stained his shirt and head, and the young woman could not hold back the stray tears that fell onto his face.

"Dad…" she whispered. Shaking her head a little bit and brushing away her tears, she moved on to the next body, a woman.

Dressed in a blouse and skirt covered with holiday decorations, the woman seemed relatively unharmed, save for the dust that covered her body. But upon closer inspection, the ever growing pool of blood forming around her was painfully clear, originating from her back. The girl crawled closer to the body, taking one of the woman's hands in her own. It was still warm.

Daring to believe it, she gently searched for a pulse. There remained a very weak one that seemed to fade with each beat. Hurriedly she made to turn the woman over, to heal the wound, but a sputter froze the girl in her tracks as the woman stirred.

"No…" the woman whispered, voice hoarse.

"W-what?" the girl replied, not trusting her ears. "Mum… just relax, you're going to be fine, I'm gonna heal you!"

Even as she spoke, she knew the words were a lie. This close to death, she wasn't sure if even Madam Pomfrey could heal her mother, let alone her, only a fifth year. But she could sure as hell try.

"No…" her mother's whisper spoke again, "my time has come… I have lived a full life, and now I look forward to the next great adventure… even if I am not a witch like you are, my daughter."

Fresh tears leaked into her eyes and she shook her head vehemently. "No! Please… I need you mum… please…" she begged, her vision clouding as the tears spilled undaunted.

Her mother smiled softly; a sad smile. "Please… live on…" her hand reached up and stroked the girl's face delicately. Her vision was nothing more than a burning mess of moisture now, she barely registered this act through her sobs.

"Marianne…"

Her hand slumped.

&-&-&-&-&-&-&-&

For a few moments, Marianne stayed on the ground, weeping for her parents. Surrounded by debris, she picked herself up monotonously, standing over their bodies. Not forgetting, she aimed her wand toward the sky, and firmly commanded, "Accio."

A nearby pile of wreckage stirred, and from its depths flew out a small picture frame, miniscule enough to fit into the palm of her hand. The glass was miraculously untouched, and the picture within was unmoving – a muggle photo. In it, the three people present now, two deceased, posed in a family embrace. The same house that now lay in ruins was standing in full color behind them, the driveway littered with miscellaneous boxes and a large moving truck. Three beaming smiles met her gaze as she forlornly pocketed the picture into her sweater.

Marianne stood before her parent's bodies, unsure of what to do. She had no clue as to what had caused this calamity, and the source was still out there. She would need to figure out just what exactly had happened here…

She pointed her wand at her parents. The least she could do was to give them a proper burial. But not here… she readied a spell that would keep the bodies safe until she could figure out what to do. The incantation was at the tip of her tongue when –

A series of pops disrupted her concentration. She whipped her head around to the offending source and found half a dozen wizards dressed in pale yellow robes and cloaks standing on her driveway. One of the figures yelled out.

"Caught red-handed!" she suddenly realized that she was standing over her parents bodies, pointing a wand at them, surrounded by the ruins of her house. Damn incriminating circumstances.

Another of the wizards stepped forward and produced a scroll from inside his robes. He cleared his breath and spoke pompously.

"Marianne Morao, you are hereby under arrest for the murders of Michael and Megan Morao. Furthermore, the Improper Use of Magic Office has received intelligence that the..." he gulped here, "… Killing Curse and Blasting Hex were used on your premises at twenty-three minutes past eleven this evening.

"The severity of this breach of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery has resulted in your expulsion from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," he stopped reading from the scroll here.

"We are here to destroy your wand, and take you in to spend the rest of your days in Azkaban. Now come quietly girl, you cannot possibly hope to defeat six fully trained Aurors…"

"We will use deadly force," he hissed.

Marianne stood in shock, still over her parent's bodies. Where were the Aurors half an hour ago when her house had been destroyed? What had taken them so long to come? She gritted her teeth… even the government was involved. Before doing anything though, she waved her wand and intoned, "_Tutiorus._"

The two bodies appeared to fade out of existence, diminishing into a pale blue exoskeleton, before fading completely. She had merely moved them to somewhere safe, until she could get out of this predicament.

The lead Auror's face scrunched up in irritation. All six arms of the squad whipped up toward her and took aim as the man gave a last warning.

"Drop your wand _now_, girl, or face the consequences!" he bellowed, obviously displeased that his first order had gone unnoticed.

Marianne contemplated her situation… the man was right; there was no possible way she could defeat all six of them. However, there was one possible way to escape… a risk, a gambit. But it was better than any other option she had. There was absolutely no way she would allow these wizards to take her to Azkaban.

The young witch looked up and made a dramatic show of dropping her wand to her side. "Fine," she said, "I give up." The Aurors looked momentarily surprised by this, but they all dropped their wands to their sides as well. But Marianne knew that the Aurors could bring them back up in a fraction of a second. The leader relaxed somewhat, and pulled out a pair of magical handcuffs, ready to bring her in.

But she instead walked toward them, pocketing her wand and putting her hands up. At this motion, the rest of the Aurors seemed to relax as well, and loosed the grip on their wands somewhat. Marianne's stomach was doing flips inside her, every beat of her heart reverberated her entire body… this was her chance! Still walking toward the Aurors, she veered slightly to the side, toward her car, the engine still on, door open…

The lead Auror noticed as she changed her course, now walking away from him. "Hey, what'd you think you're doing, missy?!" But it was too late as Marianne broke off in a sprint for the last few meters. One of the Aurors seemed to regain his senses quicker than she had expected and let loose a vicious cutting hex that narrowly missed her head and grazed her arm, gashing it open.

Without skipping a beat however, Marianne slid behind the car and drew her wand, ducking as another hex flew by her head. The lead Auror ran back to where his comrades were, afraid of getting too close in a firefight. Exactly where she wanted them.

With a loud bellow full of anger and frustration, she banished the entire car at the group of Aurors, now standing in a straight line facing her. The car, too heavy to fly through the air, bounced and spun, crashing toward the wizards. However, they weren't trained for nothing. Another stray hex hit her in the leg, and she collapsed onto one knee, blood squirting out from the wound. The group erected a shield charm, intent on deflecting the massive hunk of metal away. But Marianne wasn't going to let them do that; the car spun one more time, just as it was about to hit the Aurors…

Its underside was now exposed toward her, the pipes and tanks staring back at her so temptingly…

"_IGNITE!_" she screamed, pointing her wand at the car, Latin incantations forgone.

Marianne saw the events in agonizing slow motion. A small spark appeared around the pipes, then another, bigger spark appeared, hugging around the pipes like electricity, crackling like lightning. The car exploded.

Her hair blew back from the shockwave, and a wave of heat forced her eyes to squint. The explosion was more severe than it should have been – no trace of the car remained. Everything had exploded outwards as shrapnel, cutting through the flesh of the Aurors, and stray pieces of metal made multiple cuts throughout Marianne's body. She stumbled on her feet, woozy from the magic she had used in the past half hour or so.

The place where the Aurors had been now looked like a battlefield. Miscellaneous pieces of metal and flesh littered the pavement, now cracked and scorched. Blood bubbled in pools from the intense heat of the surrounding atmosphere. Chunks of flesh hung from the nearby trees, dripping blood, some scorched black. Marianne's eyes took in the scene, willing herself to never forget the destruction and death she had caused.

"_Crucio!_"

Unimaginable pain suddenly coursed through her veins, the fires of hell itself burning through her body. She screamed, unable to resist for a second, eyes clenched shut in agony. After what seemed like an eternity of suffering, the curse was lifted and she dared to open her eyes. Every nerve was on fire, tingling from the aftereffects of the Unforgiveable. Her wand lay on the ground next to her, a few feet away. She herself was lying pitifully in the snow, spatters of blood staining the white around her. Marianne didn't even realize that she had fallen to the ground in the extreme pain.

She looked up and saw a man, barely standing and leaning against a tree near the driveway. It was an Auror. He was badly injured, cloak and robes ripped in many places, edges singed. His face was covered in dark dust and the tips of his hair were burnt as well. Blood caked around half of his visible skin, although she wasn't sure how much of it was his. He was gripping a wand, which had unbelievably escaped any form of destruction, though his wand hand was missing a couple fingers, and patches of skin on his arm were black and hardened. His legs seemed relatively uninjured; however he was missing his left arm from the elbow, the wound cauterized from the heat. A terrifying fury shone in his eyes, all directed at Marianne.

"Y-you _bitch_… what in hell's name have you done…" he slowly limped forward. His wand was shaking uncontrollably in his hand, albeit roughly pointed at her.

For the first time in Marianne's life, she was absolutely terrified. Disarmed, and at the mercy of an Auror who had just placed her under the Cruciatus, not to mention whose comrades she had just slaughtered…

No! She would not allow herself to die like this, in her own yard, the very scene of a massacre. Too many unanswered questions remained as well. No, she must live, in order to track down and hunt those that had caused all of this. It was only one Auror, and a badly injured one at that, while she remained relatively unharmed.

"_Avada Kedavra!_" her eyes widened in shock as the sickening green light approached her head – and hit just inches away. The wizard's arm was shaking so badly that he could not aim properly. Without a second thought, she scrambled up and reached for her wand, while dodging another Killing Curse.

The Auror roared in frustration as his curses kept missing Marianne. By now she had picked up her wand and leveled it at the Auror. His eyes narrowed as he eyed her apprehensively, before attempting a final "Avada Kedavra!" Marianne didn't even flinch as the curse sailed by her harmlessly, but her fury was now approaching its limit. For once, instead of trying to bottle up her anger and throw it away or control it, she embraced it. Let it flow through her body. She tingled all over with unrestrained rage and hatred; everything was meaningless right now – she just needed to release her anger! The man standing before her, he had tried to kill her multiple times in the past minute. How dare he, _she_ was the victim in this incident, _her_ parents had been killed…

With a roar of her own, she pointed her wand directly in between the Auror's eyes, her own eyes blazing with a primal ferocity. Everything would end here for him, this man that had so callously tried to end her life… His eyes suddenly filled with a fear, a fear only known to mankind right before death: pure terror.

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!_" she roared, every ounce of hatred and rage pouring into the spell, her will bent on taking his life. A rush of wind and a flash of sickening green later, the man lay on the snow, his eyes wide and his face in an expression of shock.

Marianne was drained, magically, physically, and emotionally. Along with the Killing Curse, all of the negative emotions had escaped her system, and now she looked at the destruction she had caused all around her, her mind numb. She stared at the body in front of her, the shocked face and wide eyes, and then at her wand, still in her hand. Dazed, she limped toward the tree the now dead Auror had previously leaned on, and proceeded to wretch out the past day's meals.

Feeling slightly better, she took one last look at the premises, and apparated away.


End file.
